It's Never Simple
by Regina Raptorum
Summary: Tsuzuki and Hisoka are sent to investigate an apparent poltergeist who's been running amok in Nagasaki. Of course, complications tend to arise... Complete, minor spoilers. Please RR.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Oh, hey, look, a Yami fic. This is my first one, so I may be slightly out of character with some of the guys. I've tried my best. Also, I'm working mostly off the anime and some general knowledge of the manga, so some things may be slightly inaccurate, and I've had to guess about some others.

This is also one of the few multichapter fics I've worked on; I'll try to get a new chapter up once a week, but I promise nothing.

I completely blame the fanfic muse; by the time I realized it had gotten out of the closet, I had most of the story worked out. This one's been percolating for a while, but I've only recently been able to work out how to make it not suck.

The fanfic muse feeds on reviews, so I would greatly appreciate them. It will help to keep the little rodent too distracted to focus on some of the really weird ideas that shouldn't be written.

Yami no Matsuei and associated characters don't belong to me. They belong to the wonderful people who created them. There are but two original characters in this, and they do belong to me. I make no money off this, and I have no money to be sued for. We clear? Awesome.

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"Tsuzuki, we're going to be late. You know what Tatsumi said about you missing another meeting." Hisoka pushed his partner ahead of him, hoping to keep him from running off again. Sometimes, he felt more like a babysitter than a shinigami.

"But I was going to go get some cinnamon rolls!" Tsuzuki wailed at the injustice. "Do you know how long I've been wanting one?"

"No," Hisoka replied irritably. "But you're broke and I'm not buying you one, and if you're late for the meeting, Tatsumi will dock your pay, and then you won't get one at all." Tsuzuki sniffled, but allowed Hisoka to manhandle him into the conference room. Chief Konoe and Watari were already sitting at the table, and Tatsumi nodded as Tsuzuki sat down dejectedly next to Hisoka.

"Glad to see you decide to be on time for once," the accountant said dryly. Tsuzuki muttered something that sounded like "meanie" at him in response. Tatsumi pushed his glasses up his nose, then cleared his throat. "In the past two weeks, there has been an odd increase in spiritual activity in the Nagasaki district." He handed around some photographs, which seemed to be of various alleys and street corners. There was something broken or flung about in every picture, and what looked like particularly bad graffiti in two. "Things breaking inexplicably or hurling themselves off of shelves, strange noises, that sort of thing."

Watari didn't look up from the pile of bits he was fiddling with. "A poltergeist, you mean?"

Tatsumi nodded. "Something like that. Naturally, such events are caused by lost souls for whatever reasons of their own. Sometimes it's malice, sometimes it's frustration, sometimes it's just an attempt to communicate with the living. However, usually, this activity is restricted to one specific area. In this case, these flare ups have been happening all over the city, but never in two places at once. I think it's safe to assume you're dealing with just one spirit who moves around."

Tsuzuki looked puzzled. "This has been going on for two weeks? How come we weren't notified when whoever this spirit is failed to cross over? I mean, why is this increased spiritual activity the first I've heard of it?"

Tatsumi frowned slightly. "This spirit isn't local, apparently. It's not listed in any of our records; we wouldn't know that someone hasn't crossed over if they weren't in our books. No other branch has contacted us about losing someone, so we don't even have a probable identity for this one."

"That's… really strange," Hisoka said absently. "Why come to Nagasaki?" He squinted at one of the pictures, trying to make out some detail. "Huh."

Tsuzuki turned to him. "What is it? Did you get something?" Hisoka got traces sometimes, from the spiritual signature of whoever had been involved, but usually he had to be there. Pictures didn't work very well for him.

"Not exactly…" He pointed at something in the picture he'd been examining. "This graffiti, are we sure it was made by this spirit?"

Tatsumi leaned down to look. "Reasonably, but, of course, not completely. Why?"

"Well, it just looks like it's written in English." He passed the picture to Watari, who left off his tinkering to examine it. "I can't read it, can you?"

Watari peered at it, then took his glasses off and looked closer. He whispered to himself as he tried to translate the poor scrawl. "St… Stop?" He sounded puzzled. "Of course, this isn't very good quality, and it's hard to make it out, but that's what it looks like."

Tsuzuki also looked confused. "Why not write a message in Japanese? Why English?"

Hisoka just glared at him. "I'd say that either the person who wrote it or whoever the message was intended for can't read Japanese, baka. Tatsumi did say this spirit wasn't in our records, it's possible it might be an American or a European."

"That's an awful long way for a spirit to come."

Konoe stood up, glaring mildly at the brown-haired man. "Why don't you," he growled, "Get out there and find whoever it is, and find out?"

Tsuzuki jumped up and saluted, spewing some nonsense about of course he'd solve this mystery. Hisoka just rolled his eyes and got up, waiting for his partner to follow him. As they left, Watari called after them, "I'll do some more research on this, and see if I can't find anything useful for you." Hisoka waved a hand to acknowledge him as he promptly got into an argument with Tsuzuki about lunch.

Tatsumi and Konoe just shook their heads in resignation.

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Of course, it was easier said than done. The poltergeist, for lack of a better term, had been showing up at random, in different parts of the city, with no discernable pattern. They visited one of the scenes where it had made itself known, but besides the mess (which, in most cases, had already been cleaned up), it hadn't left any clues behind.

Hisoka was able to feel some traces via his empathy, but it was too confused to be useful. "It was here, but either it's completely incoherent, or there was someone else here that overwhelmed the signature. Maybe I can get something at one of the other scenes."

But it was the same for the other places the poltergeist had shown up. Just a mass of conflicting and confusing feelings and images. And it was giving him a nasty headache. Tsuzuki looked concerned, so he must've let it show on his face. "Are you all right?"

Hisoka nodded, and focused on his partner's clear and mostly uncomplicated emotions, which helped him ignore the tangled mess. Not that he'd ever tell the great idiot. "I'm fine, but this is getting us nowhere."

Tsuzuki nodded. "It's getting late, let's go back to the hotel." The sun had set some time ago. "Maybe Watari can give us a lead tomorrow." They started walking. "There's this little restaurant on the way, they have awesome apple pie..."

"No."

"But Hisoka…"

"Not even if we had the money." They had had this same argument many times before; it was practically tradition by now. Neither one was paying much attention to the people around them. So, as they might have known it would be, it was just dumb luck that they found him.

They had actually walked past him before Hisoka turned around. He tugged on Tsuzuki's sleeve, interrupting his monologue about the wonders of this particular apple pie. "What's going on…" he cut off and frowned as he saw who Hisoka was looking at.

He was a teenager, a year or two older than Hisoka. He was even dressed similarly, in jeans and a t-shirt, with his hands stuffed into the pockets of a leather bomber jacket. He had brown hair neatly tied back into a short ponytail that reached to his shoulders. He also looked completely miserable. Hisoka could feel waves of depression and oddly enough, guilt coming off of him.

Hisoka had noticed it first, but both of them recognized him for what he was. Tsuzuki looked surprised, but he nodded. "That's him, it's got to be." They exchanged a look as they turned to follow the kid. This was not what they had been expecting a poltergeist to look like. Tsuzuki cleared his throat. "Um, excuse me…"

The kid stopped, and his head jerked up. He looked around, and finally his pale blue eyes settled on the two shinigami. "Uh… hello," Tsuzuki tried again. The kid looked to see if he could be addressing anyone behind him. Seeing no one, he silently pointing at himself questioningly. "Yes, you, can we talk for a minute?"

"You… you can see me?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Well, I had meant to wait until later in the week to post the next chapter, but I just couldn't resist. Chapter 2 of this little mess for your reading pleasure. As before, I'm working off the anime and some basic knowledge of the manga, so things might not be quite accurate. (I've also taken a few liberties that I'm sure never happened, but as far as I know, there's no reason they can't.) I also might be slightly out of character with some of the guys; this isn't something I can help, and I've done the best I could.

I'm considering changing the title of this piece if I can, just warning the… three people keeping up with this. I don't much like "Poltergeist", but the original title was worse, and now I'm working on something better.

Thanks to Sea Queen and Trans for reviewing chapter 1. The fanfic muse feeds on reviews, and they help to keep it distracted from the really strange ideas. Watches muse eyeing bizarre crossover plotbunny thoughtfully. Uh… yeah. Please review so I can keep it occupied; believe me, it's better that way.

Anyway, Yami no Matsuei and the characters therein do not belong to me. They belong to their creator of all awesome. I make no money from this, and I literally have no money to be sued for. However, the Thornes are mine, and I bite. If we're clear on that, I can get on with the show.

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Watari frowned at his computer screen. "This is decidedly odd." He had been researching the poltergeist in Nagasaki ever since Tsuzuki and Hisoka had left; it intrigued him.

"What is?" Tatsumi had wandered in a few minutes previously. Oddly enough, the safest coffee was generally the industrial strength sludge Watari brewed on a hot plate in his lab; it would remove paint, but it wouldn't turn you into anything strange. Watari did not test his experiments on himself, and didn't bother sneaking it into his coffee when he did want to try it out. Tatsumi had decided it was less hassle (and cheaper) to get used to strong coffee than it was to brew a fresh pot in the break room every time he wanted a refill. He came over to peer over the blond scientist's shoulder.

Watari pointed at the files he had pulled up. "Every single instance of poltergeist activity was immediately preceded by a murder, except one, which was preceded by an assault that easily could have turned into a murder." There were a series of pictures displayed. "These are the victims. Notice anything?"

Tatsumi looked at them. "They're all roughly the same physical type, which seems like one person's work," he said slowly. "All men, all blond. All of them were in their late twenties to thirties. Except that one," he pointed at a picture of a dark haired man a little older than the rest. "He's out of the pattern."

Watari nodded. "He's the one that lived. And I think there was provocation in that instance; at the time, he'd been trying to, um, get a little too friendly with a young woman who wasn't very receptive. The girl wasn't hurt."

Tatsumi just looked at him. "Are you saying that we're dealing with a serial killer with a sense of justice?"

Watari shrugged, careful not to wake the tiny owl perched on his shoulder. "I don't know. Like I said, it's odd." He opened up another file. "And it gets stranger. This is a list of the victims' occupations."

Tatsumi read it silently, frowning. "Is this accurate?"

Watari nodded. "I had the GuShoShin double check it for me. It's… disconcerting."

"Yes." Tatsumi quickly scanned through the list again. Out of eight deaths, five had been doctors, one had been a medical student, and one had been an actor apparently playing a doctor in a local play. "I don't like this. Do you have pictures of the bodies?"

Watari loaded another file. "Not all of them, but I have the waiter I bet you're asking about." When the picture appeared, Tatsumi just closed his eyes. The killer had made a bit of a mess, but it was still easy to see that the waiter had still been in his white uniform when he'd been attacked.

"I really don't like this." Tatsumi thought for a moment. He didn't like the situation, or the conclusions he was starting to draw. "Can you print off the relevant files? Tsuzuki and Kurosaki need to know this." Watari nodded. "I'll be in Konoe's office."

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"You… you can see me?" As they nodded, looking mystified, the kid got a peculiar expression. "And… can they see you?" He gestured vaguely at the few people around. His careful pronunciation and hesitant speech suggested that Japanese wasn't his first language.

Hisoka frowned. "If we want them to. Why?"

The kid was working up to something and ignored Hisoka's question. "Do either of you speak English?"

Tsuzuki shook his head, but Hisoka nodded. "I do, enough to get by."

The relief the kid felt was so palpable that even Tsuzuki noticed it. "Oh, thank God! Listen, I need your help! Please, can you take a message to someone?"

Tsuzuki just blinked. "Huh?"

The kid looked at the two of them hopefully. "I've been trying to tell my brother something for the longest time, but he can't hear me. And everything I've done that he has noticed he's misunderstood."

"So that's why you've been throwing things around and spray painting walls and generally making a mess? Trying to communicate with your brother?" Hisoka looked at the kid curiously. They had both assumed this was their poltergeist; it would just be too much of a coincidence for two spirits to be wandering around.

The kid looked ashamed, but nodded. "He hasn't been able to hear me since I… It's really important that I get a message to him."

Tsuzuki looked at him sympathetically. "What's the problem?" It went without saying that he was going to get involved; he liked helping people, and he was always willing to help someone with a reasonable (and sometimes unreasonable) request if it meant they could rest easier. Carrying a message was a simple enough favor, and he didn't think the kid would cause any more problems once he was able to communicate with his brother.

"He's been… well, he's been... hurting people. And the worst part is, he's doing it for my sake, but I never wanted him to." The kid looked disturbed. "And he really needs to stop."

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Watari printed off the files and went to go find Tatsumi. He was just coming out of Chief Konoe's office. Watari handed the folder to his co-worker. "This is everything."

"Thanks." He started flipping through it. "I already briefed Konoe; he wants one of us to go make sure they're all right, and give them backup if necessary. Just in case."

Watari nodded and leaned against the wall. "So he didn't like it either. Are you going, or should I?" Wakaba and Terazuma were on another assignment, and in any case, putting Tsuzuki and Terazuma in the same place at the same time usually didn't end well.

Tatsumi was thinking. "Well, I-" He broke off as the unmistakable sound of a small explosion rocked the hallway. The two of them looked at each other, then cautiously looked around the corner. Smoke was pouring out of the doorway to Watari's lab. Tatsumi slowly turned and looked at Watari. "Did you happen to leave something volatile unattended again?"

Watari smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, a sweat drop forming. "Ah… maybe. A little bitty one?" Then, seeing the glare forming on the accountant's face, he snatched the file. "Why don't I take this to Tsuzuki and Bon, mmmkay?" He bolted down the hallway before Tatsumi could yell at him.

"The repairs are still coming out of your paycheck!"

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"Well, that explains the graffiti," Hisoka muttered.

The kid nodded. "I tried writing a letter, but he didn't notice." He was quiet for a moment. "It sort of hurt his mind when I died, and he's been getting worse. I've been worried about him, that's why I followed him to Japan."

"Where are you from, anyway?" Hisoka was curious on that point.

"We're from New York." He suddenly realized something. "Oh, I never introduced myself, I'm Jamie Thorne." He stopped, thought for a minute, then corrected himself. "Thorne Jamie might be easier. Anyway, call me Jamie. My brother's name is Michael."

Tsuzuki nodded. "Tsuzaki Asato, and this is my partner, Kurosaki Hisoka." He hesitated. "What does your brother look like, uh, Jamie?" He stumbled over the foreign name.

"Michael looks like me; we're twins. Were twins." He shook his head. "I can take you to where he's been staying. If you can get him to settle down, I won't cause you any more trouble."

Hisoka looked at his partner warningly. "We're supposed to make sure wandering spirits go on to their respective afterlives. What are you going to do, once he does settle down?"

Jamie smiled vaguely as he started them leading them down the street. "I have to stay and look after him. I'm from the States, so it's not your jurisdiction, right? You shouldn't get in trouble for it. And I don't suppose agents from New York have any more time to chase someone across two countries than their counterparts in life."

Hisoka had trouble finding fault with this logic. "I can't promise our superiors won't say different."

"That's all right." They were heading towards a train station. "He blew most of his money on the plane ticket, so he can't afford a hotel room," he said, sounding a little embarrassed. "He's been sleeping in the station. He'll probably stay there until someone chases him away."

Tsuzuki nodded. "Reasonable enough." He bit his lip, trying to decide if he wanted to ask. "Why did he come all the way here from New York? It's an awful long way, especially if he doesn't have any money."

Hisoka had been wondering the same thing. "He doesn't speak Japanese, either, does he?"

Jamie was looking around the station, frowning. "No. He wasn't interested when I was taking classes. He's looking for someone. Like I said, he's not really himself right now." They followed him inside the station. The kid was getting nervous. "Something's not right…" The station was nearly empty at this time of night. The two shinigami were both surprised when Jamie let rip with what sounded like a vicious curse in English.

"What did he say?" Tsuzuki asked quietly.

"You don't want to know," Hisoka muttered back. "What's wrong, Jamie?"

Jamie was making for the door. "He must've woken up while I was out walking! He's gone!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Oh, hey, look, an update! It's kind of sad, really. I was going to post about once a week, but it's ending up somewhat more frequent than that. It's all right, I suppose.

Anyway. Chapter 3, and things start happening (also title change as promised). As always, I'm going off the anime for the most part, and some of the guys may be a little OOC, just a warning. I guess this is also as good a point as any to say that this story contains spoilers for the early episodes (though I fail to see why anyone would be reading Yami fanfiction if they hadn't gotten fairly far along in either the series or the manga).

Thanks to Trans, Sea Queen, and Zaisha for their reviews. Reviews help keep the fanfic muse distracted from ideas it really shouldn't be messing with, so please contribute to the no-ridiculous-crossovers fund?

As per usual, Yami no Matsuei or it's characters no belong to me. I don't have monies, and I wouldn't even make a good example, so let's not sue me, hmm? Jamie and Michael Thorne do belong to me, and you can't have them. So there.

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He was walking. It was late, not many people around. That was all right, people were starting to look at him strangely. How long had he been here? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember a lot of things.

The only thing he could remember for sure was that he had to find the bastard who'd killed Jamie. Some people had told him that Jamie hadn't been killed, that he'd just died, but he knew better.

It had taken him a long time, but he'd finally managed to get here. Once he'd figured out who had done it, it was just a simple matter of buying a ticket. When he'd thought about it, there was only one person it could have been, and Jamie had said that he was from Japan. So he had to make his way to Japan to come after him. Then he had to buy weapons; he couldn't kill the evil bastard without weapons. A knife was easy to come by, a gun was harder. But he didn't have anything else to do.

His stomach growled weakly, as if trying to politely point out he hadn't eaten in two days. He ignored it. Even if he could afford something to eat, he didn't want to waste the time; it wasn't like he understood the shopkeepers anyway. He wasn't really hungry, and just thinking of food made him feel slightly sick.

His head was hurting. That had been more or less constant for… for a long time. On some level, he knew that he wasn't going to last much longer. He had run out of his medicine months ago, and he hadn't been to a doctor since Jamie died. Well, you could hardly blame him for that, could you? He wondered, not for the first time, why it had been Jamie, and not him. Jamie had been perfectly healthy, until that man had got him.

It didn't matter. He'd fight to keep alive until he'd killed that bastard. Then he could let go of everything, and go find Jamie. He was hampered by the fact that he didn't know what the man looked like, not really, didn't even know his name. All he knew was that it was a man, he had some shade of blond hair, he liked white, and he was a doctor. He'd tried a few times, but none of them had been the right man.

He was oddly sure that he'd know the right one when he got him. Just like he was oddly sure that Jamie was watching him. Some things had happened that made him believe that Jamie was annoyed with him. Well, he was doing the best he could.

He paused in an alley and leaned against a building, resting for a minute. He got tired easily now, and often had to rest as he wandered the city. He hissed as a nail or something poked into his shoulder. It was nothing, he'd put up with it. When he straightened back up, he didn't notice the blood trickling down his back. Something else had caught his attention.

Was that him? Walking down the street, ignoring the world at large? Blond hair, and a white doctor's coat. It might be. He pulled his gun out of his jacket, fumbling with the safety. The knife would be quieter, but this man was taller than he was, and he didn't feel strong enough to get into a hand to hand fight.

He must've made some noise or another, because the man turned, blinking at him through large glasses. He smiled and started to say something, then he saw the gun. He put his hands in the air automatically. Why did people do that? Odd sort of instinct. He said something in Japanese, sounding nervous. Probably something about putting the gun down.

A wave of dizziness hit him, and he wavered. The man took the hesitation as something else, and cautiously took a step forward. That did it. He fired twice. His aim had been improving. One round punched through the man's shoulder, and the other caught him in the throat.

He closed his eyes and waited as the man clutched at his neck and staggered backwards, sliding down against the opposing wall. For about ten seconds, all he could hear was the dying man's labored gasping. Then a small planter near the corner broke, like it had been savagely kicked. He shook his head, disappointed. It wasn't him, and now Jamie was mad. He stuck his hands in his pockets and continued on.

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Hisoka and Tsuzuki had trouble keeping up with the teen-aged ghost. He had run ahead of them, intent on finding his brother and almost completely forgetting about the two people following him. Tsuzuki almost decided to use the spell for giving chase, with the way they kept losing sight of Jamie, but Hisoka was able to follow his traces, so it wasn't necessary.

They didn't talk; each was wrapped up in their own thoughts. Tsuzuki could tell that the boy hadn't told them everything, and while he didn't want to pry, he sort of had the idea that it could be important. There was something about his evasiveness that made the shinigami nervous. He guessed that the brother's actions went a little further than just hurting people, but he still didn't know why or how dangerous he was likely to be.

Hisoka had reached the same conclusion long before, and now he was wondering exactly how hard it might be to get the point across to Jamie's brother. Jamie's emotions were muddled, but nowhere near as chaotic as the traces he'd found earlier. Since Jamie had said he'd only thrown things to get his brother's attention, that meant it had to be this Michael person. That, plus what little Jamie had said made him wonder how coherent the kid would be. It also made him wonder how much of a headache the real thing would give him, considering what the echo did.

They both tensed as two loud noises echoed through the night. "That was a gun," Hisoka said grimly, and sped up. Tsuzuki did likewise. This was not turning out to be as easy as they both had hoped.

Suddenly Jamie came flying back towards them. He collided with Tsuzuki, who grabbed him to keep him from falling. "Tsuzuki-san! Kurosaki-san! You have to come!" He grabbed each of them and started pulling them down the street as fast as he could. "He's… someone… ahh, come on!"

Hisoka could feel the sheer panic rolling off the boy. "What happened?!" he demanded. He had a bad, bad feeling about this.

"Again," the kid babbled incoherently, stumbling over the Japanese words. "Done it again, hurry! Hope… not too late… bad…" He kept pulling, apparently not able to be more clear. As they bolted up the sidewalk, a small brown thing shaped like a whiffle ball suddenly zoomed towards them, grabbed Tsuzuki's tie, and started frantically pulling on it as well. He was too worried to pay much attention to it.

The alley wasn't much farther down the street, only a block or two. When they reached it, Jamie collapsed on the sidewalk, gasping for breath. "Here… help him, please!" There was someone slumped against the wall just inside the alley. The little brown something jerked on Tsuzuki's tie, hooting desperately.

Hooting?

He looked down, finally realizing it was a tiny brown owl that was yanking on his tie. An instant later, he jumped forward, Hisoka right next to him. They both stared in disbelief at the unconscious blond man. He was holding his throat, but his hand hadn't done much to keep the blood from pouring down his blue turtleneck, and his lab coat was ruined.

Really, they only stood there staring at him for a couple of seconds, but it felt like longer. It was Tsuzuki who managed to say something first.

"Watari?!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Looky, it's update time! Yaaaaaay! Ahem. You know, I figured I'd get yelled at a lot more for the last chapter than I did. Anyway. Part 4 of this madness. Halfway there, unless I lose my mind and completely re-write the ending. Right. You know the drill, this is based mostly off the anime and general knowledge of the manga, so some things may be inaccurate and I've taken some liberties with other things.

Thanks to Trans, Sea Queen, and Zaisha for reviewing Chapter 3. (You know, I think you're the only people who've been reviewing. Thanks for reading!) Reviews help distract the muse of fanfiction, please review. The world is not ready for a Rurouni Kenshin-Gundam Wing crossover.

Yami no Matsuei and related characters didn't belong to me last chapter, and sadly nothing has changed since then. No money, please don't sue. Jamie and Michael Thorne do belong to me, don't steal them. I bite.

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Watari had never been in the infirmary with anything but a minor self-inflicted injury, usually resulting from some sort of explosion. Tsuzuki or Hisoka being in the infirmary wasn't at all surprising; Terazuma was in there frequently, and if he'd been feeling particularly energetic at the time, Wakaba might be there with him. Even Tatsumi got a little careless sometimes.

But Watari had never gotten hurt on assignment; he joked that his district was so boring there was no way he could get injured. Usually, he was the one patching everyone else up. It was strange, but that was what shook everyone the most.

Tsuzuki and Hisoka had managed to get him back to the infirmary, all the while hoping it wasn't _really _as bad as it looked and trying not to panic. But just looking at it, there was a lot of blood everywhere and Watari's face was incredibly pale. When they'd got there, Tsuzuki had sprinted off for help while Hisoka tried to control the bleeding. Tsuzuki's long legs could burn distance when he really wanted them too, and he returned less than seven seconds later with Tatsumi matching him stride for stride.

Tatsumi looked almost as pale as the scientist as he surveyed the damage, but he didn't say anything. He just shrugged his suit coat off and chased Tsuzuki and Hisoka out of the infirmary so he could start putting Watari back together. While he didn't have any actual medical training, he'd made it his business to learn a few things in case of emergencies. Such as this.

He looked tired when he finally emerged. He found Tsuzuki and Hisoka in the break room, and Konoe and the GuShoShin seemed to find reasons to wander in every few minutes. "He'll be all right," Tatsumi said, gladly accepting the cup of coffee Hisoka handed him. "You got to him in time to keep the bleeding mostly under control. If he'd been mortal, the wounds would have killed him, but it would take more than that to end a shinigami. What happened?"

Between the two of them, Tsuzuki and Hisoka explained what they knew about Jamie Thorne and his errant brother. "He didn't come right out and say it, but we sort of got the idea that wasn't the first time something like this had happened," Tsuzuki said. "But why in the world would he attack Watari?"

Tatsumi was nodding. "It sounds like you got one part of the puzzle, and we found the other. Watari was on his way to give you the research he'd put together." He pushed a file folder across the table to them. It was a copy of the same file Watari had created earlier; the original was undoubtedly lost somewhere. "It fits in nicely with what you've said."

They silently read the file and looked at the pictures inside. It was obvious by their expressions that they didn't like it any more than anyone else had. Hisoka broke the silence. "So, he tried to kill Watari… because he has blond hair and was wearing a lab coat?"

Tatsumi nodded. "It fits the pattern. I'd say this Michael person is at the very least dangerously unbalanced, and more likely thoroughly insane." Hisoka agreed, that would explain the painfully incoherent traces he'd felt.

Tsuzuki was meanwhile looking through the pictures, frowning. "He said he was looking for someone," he muttered to himself. He laid the pictures out on the table and compared them. "They're all blond, and they're all either doctors, close to doctors, or were wearing white…" He closed his eyes, trying to decide if there was any other theory those facts supported. He couldn't think of a single one. "I really hope I'm wrong," he said quietly.

Hisoka snorted. "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I hope you are too, but you probably aren't."

"I need to talk to Jamie again."

Tatsumi looked around. "Where is your new friend, anyway?"

Tsuzuki and Hisoka looked vaguely uncomfortable. "I think he ran off while we were busy with Watari."

"Well, at least now you know who to look for."

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Hazel eyes blinked open and stared at the ceiling for a good five minutes, contemplating the lack of damaged acoustic tiles and familiar stains. Eventually, he was ready to make a pronouncement. "This is not my lab. It isn't even my apartment." So, apparently, he had not passed out during an experiment or drug himself home only theoretically awake, neither of which was uncommon.

Watari was not ready to investigate further than that at the moment; he felt horrible. His shoulder hurt, and it felt like a red hot poker had been shoved through his neck. To top it all off, he had a headache that surpassed description. Given that, and quiet ambient sounds he'd been listening to for a while, he rather thought he might be in the infirmary.

Something soft pushed against one hand, and he heard a quiet, worried hooting. He moved enough to see the small brown blur sitting on the bed next to him. "It's okay, 003." For a moment, he wondered why everything was so terribly out of focus, then he realized it was because he wasn't wearing his glasses. The tiny owl nudged his hand again, then flew across the room. It returned a moment later, dropping something on the bed. His glasses. He automatically reached for them, but hissed in pain as he pulled on his shoulder.

"Ah, you're awake." Tatsumi had entered the room when he wasn't paying attention. Watari imagined the accountant was shaking his head at him before he reached down and moved his glasses to his good hand. "You'll have to be careful for a little while. How are you feeling?"

Watari slipped his glasses on carefully. "Like I've been shot," he said, trying to sound cheerful. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at Tatsumi, now that he could actually see him. For the first time in memory, his brown suit was wrinkled, and he looked like he'd been running on nothing but caffeine and expense reports for a couple of days. "Wow." He started to snicker, but his throat decided that was a profoundly bad idea. He had already realized that talking was painful, but he hadn't realized how much more laughing would hurt. He bit his lip, trying not to cough or swear, both of which he wanted to do and both of which he was sure he'd regret. A lot.

Tatsumi looked concerned. "Don't you dare do anything to tear that wound open again. It was hard to close and not an experience I care to repeat." When he was sure that his friend wasn't about to undo his hard work, he sat down next to the bed. "What was so amusing?"

"I've just never seen you looking so… mussed. Usually you look like you used a laser and calipers to get dressed," Watari said, smiling.

Tatsumi shrugged. "Well, I've been extraordinarily busy, since our resident medic went and got himself shot."

He paused for a moment, thinking. "You know," he said finally, "I had a theory it was something like that." He winced slightly as he recalled previous events. "Well, I suppose this means I was right. Although it never even occurred to me that I fit the pattern as well."

"It didn't occur to us either," Tatsumi said dryly. "At least, not until Tsuzuki and Kurosaki found you bleeding in an alley."

Watari nodded slightly, then looked apologetic. "I'm afraid I can't remember anything useful about our happy little friend; it was dark and I wasn't paying attention until I saw the gun, then that's all I was paying attention to."

"It's all right, they found the poltergeist, who is apparently the lunatic's brother. So they know what he looks like and what his name is. They left a little while ago to track him back down."

"So the killer really is crazy? I'd been wondering." Watari closed his eyes. He was getting tired. "Given the apparent trend in his mania, I can probably make an educated guess as to why."

"So can the rest of us, but there's something we're missing." Tatsumi stood up. "Go back to sleep. I promise I'll tell you what we find out; I know you're intrigued by the whole mess."

Watari smiled again as he started to drift back off. "You're only saying that because you know it's the only way to make sure I stay put…"

"Just get some rest." He paused at the door. "Watari?"

"Hm?"

"I don't care how mad I get at you or for what. Be more careful in the future, okay? Don't ever scare me like that again."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Ah, I didn't mean to take this long to get this chapter up. Oh well. Originally this and chapter 6 were supposed to be one chapter, but it was so damn long, I had to split it in two. Anyway! Getting close to the end, now. I don't know if I'll be writing another one soon, I'd need to come up with a suitable plot. (Although I will shamelessly plug my other Yami fic, "Aberrant Thoughts.") As always, my knowledge of Yami comes almost entirely from the anime, so I apologize if there are some inaccuracies. Text in italics is meant to be English (keep in mind that everyone's been speaking Japanese.)

Thanks to Trans, Zaisha, and Sea Queen for reviewing the last chapter. Sorry I kept you waiting. The fanfic muse is currently eating my Reese's cups, so god knows what abominations will result from the sugar filled madness. Please review so that I can maintain some semblance of control over the little monstrosity.

Yami doesn't belong to me, except in the form of a very nice boxed set, and nor do the characters (which is probably for the best, I couldn't afford the attending repair bills). I don't have any money, either, so there's not much point in suing me, is there? Jaime and Michael Thorne do belong to me, and I'm the kind of girl who'd mail you a box of rabid squirrels if you steal them, kay?

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Tsuzuki looked around the alley, frowning. They'd returned to the place where the attack had taken place, but no one was there. He supposed he should go back to the train station, since that was apparently the killer's base of operations, but he wanted to get some answers out of Jamie first. He sighed, then pulled a slightly wrinkled fuda out of one of his pockets. Then he started concentrating, and the paper folded itself into a small bird.

Hisoka wasn't paying much attention to his partner. He was examining one of the walls of the alley. There was a small nail protruding from the building, and it looked like someone had cut themselves on it recently. There was blood on it, and when he looked down, he saw that there was more on the ground. He looked down the sidewalk thoughtfully. Apparently the cut hadn't been noticed, because more blood had dripped down as whoever it was had walked. "I wonder…"

Tsuzuki glanced at him curiously as he finished the spell. "What is it? Did you find something?"

"Maybe." It was possible that the blood trail wasn't related to the incident, but it looked about as fresh as Watari's blood on the other side of the alley. He didn't like that particular train of thought, but Watari was going to be all right, and he had a job to do. "I'm going to follow this."

Though he had been trying not to sense anything due to the almost certain migraine he'd get for his trouble, Hisoka felt the sudden anxiety rolling off Tsuzuki. The older shinigami was glancing between him and the bird charm that was starting to fly off in another direction, trying to decide which way to go. "I don't think we should split up."

Hisoka sighed, rolling his eyes. He might have known. "Go track down Jamie, I'll be all right." He started following the drops of blood. "I can handle myself, and I think if that bastard was actively involved, he'd have made it clear already."

Tsuzuki bit his lip. What Hisoka said made sense, but still. "It's just… you have blond hair too."

Oh, so that was it. "I'll be careful. He won't take me by surprise. And," Hisoka patted his jacket pocket, where Tsuzuki knew his gun would be. "Watari doesn't carry anything more dangerous than a toaster. I do."

Tsuzuki didn't look happy, but he was realizing he wasn't going to win this argument. "All right, but promise that you won't do anything risky. And if he is involved, stay away from him." Hisoka nodded; this was about the best he could expect. Tsuzuki started following the tiny white bird, but looked back uncertainly. "Be careful, okay?"

Maybe he ought to be irritated at Tsuzuki's over-protectiveness, but Hisoka knew that it was only because his partner cared about him and was worried. Even after all the time he'd been Tsuzuki's partner, he still wasn't used to it. It was sort of nice. "I will."

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Tsuzuki followed the spell for a long time, still trying to decide if he should have let Hisoka go by himself. He _knew_ that Hisoka could take care of himself, usually, and that they stood a better chance of getting the job done if they split up. But there had been times that he'd gotten into trouble, and couldn't get himself out. Tsuzuki worried about him, a lot. Maybe he should...

The little bird trilled, and circled above a small stand of trees, bringing his attention back to the matter at hand. They'd come to a small park without him noticing. He peered into the trees, and as he did, he heard a quiet sobbing. He looked down. Jamie was sitting on the ground, with his knees pulled up to his chest. He was crying, and looked younger than he probably was. "Jamie?"

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Hisoka had followed the blood trail for a surprising distance. He was starting to get concerned; if that cut was as small as the nail said it should have been, it should have clotted and stopped bleeding before whoever it was got this far. Even if he'd been running, and Hisoka didn't think he was.

But he was sure he was on the right track. He was still trying to keep from actively sensing anything, but that only went so far. The traces he felt were the same as before. And, like before, he was starting to get a headache. It made him wonder exactly what was wrong with the kid that his emotions were in such a constant state of flux.

Suddenly, he saw someone up the sidewalk about a block away. The light wasn't good enough to see much and he had his back to Hisoka, but the general height, build, and way of walking were similar enough to Jamie that he felt sure this was his brother.

Hisoka braced himself, and slammed down every single mental barrier he knew how to make. It probably wouldn't be enough, but it couldn't be helped. He sped up, catching up to his objective quickly. He was right; the few barriers he could make weren't enough. Trying to ignore the increasing headache, he reminded himself that Jamie's brother apparently spoke only English. _"Excuse me, Michael Thorne?"_

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The boy looked up, and scrubbed at his face to wipe away the tears. "Tsu… Tsuzuki-san?"

"Are you all right?" Tsuzuki sat down next to him.

"I let him do it again," he said dully. "I've been trying to make him stop, but he won't." He sniffled, then said in a small voice. "That last one… that was a friend of yours and Hisoka-san's, wasn't he?"

"Yes." Tsuzuki poked him gently. "It's all right. He's like us; it would take more than that to kill him again. He'll be all right. But even if he wasn't, it wouldn't be your fault."

"I'm glad he didn't die." Jamie curled in tighter on himself. "It is my fault, though. Michael wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for me. Everything's my fault."

The shinigami hesitated. He needed to know, but at the same time, he didn't want to cause the ghost any more pain. "Can you tell me about it?"

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The boy turned around slowly, looking at Hisoka without much interest. Hisoka was shocked. Jamie had said that the two of them were twins, and looked alike. Well, they did, in the sense that the reflection in a funhouse mirror looked like the original. Michael's hair was dirty and matted, and he was shockingly pale. His face was too thin, and now that Hisoka looked, he got the idea that the rest of him was much too thin as well. His eyes were the same shade of blue as Jamie's, but they were deeply sunken and glittered with fever and something else.

_"Did you want something?"_ Michael's voice sounded raspy and broken, but otherwise completely disinterested. He stood there, his hands in his jeans pockets.

He would have to be very careful. He'd thought about confronting the kid about attacking Watari, but now it didn't seem like a good idea. Standing here face to face, Hisoka realized that Michael was both very crazy and probably very unpredictable. Tensing up slightly, he said, _"Your brother asked me to give you a message."_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Well, here's the next chapter, and there's only one more to go, unless I decide to completely rewrite the ending. (I probably won't, but anything is possible.) Getting some questions answered this time around. This story's almost over, and I don't know if I should (or have the story) to write another for this series. This is based almost entirely on the anime, with some basic working knowledge of the manga, so there might be something not quite accurate. Also, I've been trying to be in character, but I may have slipped a little. Oh, and any text in italics is English, seeing as how this is set in Japan.

As usual, thanks to Sea Queen, Zaisha, and Trans for reviewing. I apologize for leaving everyone hanging last chapter; originally chapters five and six were one chapter, but since it was so long, I cut it in half. Anyway! The fanfic muse craves reviews, and if the crazy thing doesn't get them, he starts looking at some of the bizarre ideas that the muse of sleep-deprived insanity comes up with. It's best for all concerned if he stays too distracted to get into that mess.

Like always, Yami no Matsuei and related characters do not belong to me. Jamie and Michael Thorne do, and you can't have them, mmmkay? I don't make any money off this, and I haven't got anything to be sued for, unless you count my collection of ramune bottles.

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Jamie seemed to have trouble deciding how to start. "When we were in high school, a local medical school sponsored a series of lectures by prominent doctors. I was considering being a doctor myself, so I managed to go to most of them. Michael wasn't very interested, so he didn't come with me." He paused, taking a deep breath. "There was one, a Japanese surgeon. It was an interesting lecture, and he was pretty charismatic, but that's not important."

Tsuzuki frowned. He thought he had a good idea what was coming next, and he didn't like it. Jamie shuddered next to him. "Are you all right?"

Jamie nodded, collecting himself before he continued. "That night, after the lecture, I walked home by myself. It was stupid and I shouldn't have done it, but it was such a nice night, with a full moon… I don't know what got my attention, maybe I heard something. But I happened to look down an alley. I saw…" He paused again, and swallowed. "Well, I saw the doctor from the lecture I'd just come from. He was… there was a woman. I don't know who she was."

Tsuzuki really didn't like the way this was going. Just on the surface, it sounded disturbingly like what had happened to Hisoka. "He killed her, didn't he?"

"Yah." Jamie was silent for a long time. "And he saw me. Murder isn't anything strange in New York. Most everyone's learned not to pay attention to them and pretend not to see anything. But I guess he didn't know that, or didn't care." He was shaking, instinctively curling up into as small a ball as he could. "I don't remember a lot about what happened after that."

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Well, he certainly had Michael's attention now. He suddenly looked a lot more alert, and he was studying Hisoka a lot more carefully now. His hand went behind his back, and Hisoka's grip tightened on the gun in his pocket. Michael's gaze lingered on the shinigami's hair for a few seconds. There was a sudden increase in the intensity of Michael's distorted emotions, and Hisoka had to force himself not to cry out.

_"Who are you?"_ Michael demanded. _"What do you want?"_

_"I'm a friend of Jamie's. He asked me to give you a message. That's all."_

Michael considered for a moment. "_You… you know Jamie?" _He stepped closer to Hisoka, his eyes narrowing. _"How do you know him? All our friends are at home."_

Hisoka thought furiously. This could get real bad, real fast. _"I can see things. I met him a little while ago. He asked me to find you and give you a message. He said he wanted you to stop. I'm just trying to help him."_ True, as far as it went. Now all he could do was hope it worked. He really didn't want to get into it with a homicidal madman again.

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Tsuzuki gave Jamie a moment. Finally, he asked, "How did Michael get involved? We know he's been trying to track down a blond Japanese doctor. I suppose it's the same man that you saw."

Jamie nodded. "I said we were twins, right? Well, we were really close, even for twins. A lot of times, we knew what each other was thinking or feeling. Never could keep secrets from each other." He chuckled humorlessly. "Honestly, I don't think I'd remember as much as I do if Michael didn't remember part of it. He got a lot of images, you see, and something else besides. So he… saw, I guess, the same thing I did, only second hand. Somehow, the doctor didn't kill me then and there, and the next thing I really clearly remember was waking up in the hospital."

Tsuzuki stared. Well, that explained a lot. And now he knew that they'd all been right in what they had suspected. But he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Jamie continued. "Neither one of us was the same after that. Michael went a little funny, but I got sick. At first, everyone thought it might have been cancer, but it wasn't. And I just got worse and finally I…" He stopped again, and Tsuzuki thought he saw tears streaking down his face again. "Michael went all the way over the edge when I died. But he didn't really know what the doctor looked like, just that he was blond." Jamie buried his face in his arms. "He's not even going after the right color blond. Everyone he's attacked had yellow-blond hair, but the doctor had white-blond hair."

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Michael stared at him for a long time, and Hisoka had started thinking that it had worked when suddenly Michael scowled at him. _"You're lying,"_ he said flatly. _"Jamie's been dead for months."_ He suddenly got a thoughtful expression. _"You know… I bet you work for that man that killed Jamie. I bet I'm getting close and he's getting scared."_

"What the hell?!" Hisoka demanded, forgetting himself and lapsing back into Japanese. Of all the reactions Michael could have had, that was the one Hisoka frankly couldn't ever have predicted. He didn't have time to work it out, though, because Michael was moving. The other boy's arm shot out from behind his back. He wasn't holding a gun, but a knife.

Hisoka didn't have time to get his own gun out of his pocket before Michael jumped toward him. As they collided, Hisoka grabbed his wrist, barely managing to keep the knife out of his chest. Michael was so fast and so furious that Hisoka had trouble keeping him at bay. The only thing that saved him was that he was stronger; whatever was wrong with the insane young man, it made him physically weak.

The two of them wrestled on the ground, Michael trying to stab or cut Hisoka, and Hisoka trying to throw Michael off long enough to turn invisible or teleport, all the while cursing himself for an idiot. As they fought, Hisoka noticed the wet patch on Michael's back; his cut was apparently still oozing blood. He didn't have time to think about it. He heard cloth ripping, but didn't pay much attention to it.

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Tsuzuki anxiously patted Jamie on the shoulder. "It'll be all right, we'll help you get through to him."

Jamie craned his neck to look at the sky. "I'm sorry to have caused you so much trouble."

"It's not your fault, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Tsuzuki said kindly. "To be honest, we'd thought it was something like this."

Jamie looked up at him, confused. "Huh?"

"Well, you see," he said, trying to decide how to say it. Then he just blurted, "We know about Dr. Muraki; we've been trying to stop him for a long time. Maybe we can convince your brother just to let us handle it."

"You know about him? So he's done the same thing to other people?" At Tsuzuki's nod, Jamie looked thoughtful. "It might work, but it might not matter too much anyway." He stood up. "I meant to tell you before, but he can't keep going much longer. If we can just keep him from going ballistic for a little while longer, I'll be able to take care of him and you can stop worrying about it."

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Michael suddenly stopped flailing. He was looking down at Hisoka, a confused expression on his face. Hisoka chanced a glance to see what had startled his opponent. His t-shirt had gotten ripped in the tussle, and exposed some of the skin under it. Michael was still staring.

_"Oh, okay, then."_ Then, as abruptly as he'd started the fight, he stopped. He let go of Hisoka, then stood up and reached down to help him to his feet. Still unsure as to what had happened, Hisoka ignored the hand and got up warily. The confusion of Michael's emotions changed slightly, becoming a little more coherent. Anger, confusion, despair… sympathy?

_"What the hell is wrong with you?"_ Hisoka was staring incredulously at the person who'd been trying to kill him not thirty seconds ago. He was so confused that he didn't' even realize what a stupid question he'd just asked.

Michael smiled at him. _"I'm sorry, I'm a bit jumpy. I didn't know we were after the same thing."_ Seeing Hisoka's confused look, he pointed at his chest. _"He got you too."_

Hisoka looked down at himself. Then he understood. When his shirt had ripped, Michael had been able to see the curse marks on his chest. His reaction confirmed what everyone had been afraid of, but if he recognized the marks, that meant…

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"What do you mean, he can't keep going much longer?" Tsuzuki asked curiously as he stood up as well.

Jamie shrugged. "You know how I said they thought it was cancer when I got sick?" Tsuzuki nodded. "The reason they thought that is because Michael has leukemia, ever since he was really little. He hasn't gone to the doctor or chemotherapy in over a year, and he ran out of his meds eight months ago. Plus he hasn't been eating much."

Tsuzuki's jaw dropped. "Are you telling me he's dying?" He was astounded at Jamie's calm acceptance of the fact, given how worried he was about his brother.

Jamie nodded. "I've been watching him. Of course, in a perfect world, I'd rather that he lived a long time, but he's so sick and confused and in so much pain… I think it would be better if we were together again."

Tsuzuki stared at his young friend for a long time. "You might be right," he said finally. "Let's go find Hisoka, he went to see if he could find Michael."

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Michael was still smiling as he pushed his shirt sleeve up. Like Hisoka, he wore long sleeves to hide his arms. It wasn't quite the same; while Hisoka's curse marks looked like blood-red tattoos, the marks on Michael's arm were very faint, and looked more like old scars than anything else. "_Don't worry,"_ Michael said comfortingly as he pushed his sleeve back down. Then he reached out and patted Hisoka on the head. _"I'll get him, so you'll be okay. Don't worry about it."_

Hisoka was too stunned and confused to do more than stare after Michael as he took off down the street again. Then he cursed and started after him. He'd only gone a few steps when he reconsidered. Michael was very unpredictable, and Hisoka had learned that he couldn't underestimate him. Unless he was going to shoot Michael immediately, it would be stupid to go after him alone. Even if they still wanted to talk him down, which Hisoka wasn't sure was possible, he needed backup. He changed direction, going to look for Tsuzuki.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Well, this is the end. I apologize for taking so long to get the last chapter up; I was giving some serious thought to this. I know that this chapter may seem like something of a cop-out or skipping some important bits. All I can say is that I fought with the ending for a very long time. There were originally three or four directions I could go, but in the end, I went with the ending the story seemed to want. I'm not saying that certain parts of this story might not be referenced in other stories, but those stories are in the future and are, as yet, unwritten.

This story is currently the longest, both in chapters and word count, that I've finished. It's also gotten me the most reviews of all my stories. Thanks to Zaisha, Eria, Trans, Calenmarwen, and Sea Queen for reviewing the last chapter. Thanks to everyone who's been with me on this ride from the beginning, you know who you are. The fanfic muse feeds on reviews, and now that this story's over, I need something to keep him occupied besides the crossover of doom he's been waving around. So please review.

As always, Yami no Matsuei and related characters don't belong to me, and I'm not making any sort of money on this. Jamie and Michael Thorne do belong to me, so don't steal them, kay?

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Given everything that had happened, and as much work as they had done trying to work everything out, the end came as something as an anticlimax. Tatsumi told Watari about it once everything was mostly wrapped up. The scientist had recovered enough in the meantime that he was starting to get heartily sick of being in the infirmary, and he'd been told he could go back to work the next day, as long as he stuck to desk duty. And didn't blow anything up.

Tatsumi shook his head. "After everything, it wasn't anything we did to resolve the mess." He'd told Watari about the twins and what had happened to them, after he'd gotten the facts from Tsuzuki. "Michael's body just gave out on him the day after he shot you."

"He just died? That was it?"

Tatsumi nodded. There hadn't been any noise about the boy's passing, no Suzaku raining heavenly fire, no Byakko, no Touda, no epic battles. They'd just found him collapsed on the sidewalk, a block from the train station he'd been sleeping in, too far gone for help. "Apparently, he was suffering from the advanced stages of leukemia, and all the additional stress he'd been putting on himself was just too much. Personally, I think getting into a fight with Kurosaki was the last straw."

Watari shook his head, frowning. "That's so sad. He fought so hard to stay alive, but in the end, he just couldn't."

Tatsumi leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. "It's just as well, I think. He was too dangerous to be left running around, and if he hadn't died, we'd have had to stop him. That would have torn Tsuzuki and probably Kurosaki apart. And I'm not sure that Muraki wouldn't have noticed eventually, and I shudder to think how that would have ended."

"Mm." Watari nodded. "You do have a point. It makes sense in a sort of horrible way when you think about it. I've heard that twins can have a psychic or empathic link, which is what I guess Jamie and Michael had. If Muraki got hold of Jamie, it's no wonder that Michael went insane." He looked over at Tatsumi. "I suppose that's also why Jamie remembered more about it than Bon did at first."

"So Tsuzuki says. From what I understand, Jamie forgot the actual event, but Michael remembered the reflection of it, and that made Jamie remember some as well."

003 flew over to Watari and snuggled next to his hand. He stroked the owl absently. "Sympathetic transfer. Complicated and unpleasant, but there you go. That's been the case from the beginning. Didn't you say that Bon saw the scars of curse marks on Michael?" Tatsumi nodded. "Probably from the same thing. Jamie was cursed, but Michael felt it enough to have physical traces." He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "How are they handling it?" he asked suddenly.

Tatsumi knew what he meant. "Well, Kurosaki's a little off-balance to say the least. It upset him, both to be reminded of his own experience and to find out it happened to someone else. Tsuzuki's upset that he's upset, and angry about what happened to those boys. But that wasn't unexpected."

"What about the twins? Are they still around?"

Tatsumi shook his head. "When Michael died, Jamie was finally able to communicate with him, and mostly calm him down. Once Jamie was able to convince him to stop trying to get revenge, he didn't have any reason to stay, and Jamie had only become a ghost to watch over Michael. They crossed over together." Tatsumi smiled a little. "We're still getting the paperwork straightened out with the Americans, but it's over."

"I'm glad they were able to be together again. I wouldn't be surprised if the separation was part of what made Michael that crazy. Anyone as close as they evidently were wouldn't handle being apart well."

"Probably."

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Hisoka was leaning on the railing by the sidewalk, looking moodily out at the sea. For some reason, this was his best place to think. He heard Tsuzuki join him, but didn't turn to look.

"Are you all right?" his partner asked presently.

"Yeah. I guess so." He was quiet. "I had never thought that albino bastard would have done the same thing to something else. I think…" He paused, trying to decide if he wanted continue. "I think that makes just worse."

Tsuzuki didn't say anything for a minute. Then, he looked over at Hisoka and smiled. "I'll tell you what I told Jamie. It wasn't your fault."

"I know that." He turned around, his back to the railing. "I talked to Jamie before they left. I couldn't understand how he was able to forgive Muraki and try to forget it."

"What did he say?"

"He said it was because he was a passive type and hated conflict. It wasn't so much that he'd forgiven Muraki as he didn't like to think about it. He just wanted to try to pretend it never happened."

"Ah." Tsuzuki was quiet. "You know what he told me?" Hisoka looked at him curiously. "He said he wished he and his brother had been as strong as you are."

"What do you mean?"

"Jamie couldn't face it, and Michael went mad. You didn't hide from what happened, and you didn't go into a homicidal frenzy."

"Hmph."

Tsuzuki rubbed his wrist unconsciously. "We all have our scars, Hisoka. It's just part of what makes us who we are. It's what we do about it that matters." He shrugged, then grinned. "Come on, let's go get something to eat."

Hisoka glared, but allowed himself to be led back into town. After they had been walking for a few minutes, his expression changed. "Hey." Tsuzuki glanced down at him. "Thanks."

Tsuzuki smiled. "Any time, partner."


End file.
